Banana Bread and Cranberries
by Cavallo Alato
Summary: Tobirama's task is to make some of his famous banana bread (just the names makes the mouths of Senju clan members all around water...) for Mito, who is now with-child, but Mariko (OC) is so annoying that in the end...well. She's annoying him. Does that ever end well?


Ahhh. I've jumped into OC-world, and even worse...Naruto world.

Yes. I've returned to the fandom (OTL?). Anyway, little story that my fingers sort of spat out (like Deidara) yesterday...

Not much plot, I guess. Just random? (Maybe because my mom was making banana bread...)

OC: Mariko, and Tobirama

(I'm going to make another story/bio thing about her history...)

Tobirama, Hashirama, Mito, and everything Naruto (c) Masashi Kishimoto.

If I owned it, Rin would magically be alive and pop up in front of Kakashi, and Obito would go WHAAAAAT. O.O

Then Madara would groan in frustration and-*cuts off*

Anyway. Yes.

* * *

Mariko was about to open her mouth when Tobirama shoved an orange slice between her lips, effectively silencing her and causing her to squeal. She punched him in the stomach, but was met with a wall of solid abdominal muscles. Biting down on the orange now, citrus flavor soaking her lips, Mariko planted her hands on her hips and gave her fiancé a mischievous look. It was _supposed_ to be flirtatious.

"It doesn't work with an orange in your mouth," Tobirama deadpanned, going back to what he was doing (making his famous banana bread for Mito, who was now with-child and craved such things). He had already forgotten why he had a slice of orange. Was it because Mito liked a little orange flavor in the bread, or was it because she hated it with a passion and Tobirama gave it to Mariko because he had just remembered not to add it?

In any case, the white-haired Senju returned to his rhythmic mixing of ingredients, promptly ignoring the blunette now perched on the counter next to him. Anyone else—like a curious Hiruzen or a bored Hashirama—he would've shoved them off the counter yelling about how they were in the way and that his banana bread needed perfection; but Mariko was tiny enough and unobtrusive as she was already, and generally stayed out of his way.

"Raisins."

Tobirama glanced at the girl, lifting his eyes momentarily. Mariko had cleaned the fruit and all that was left was an orange peel, which she dropped in the trash.

"Raisins?" he asked, moving to pour the batter into a suitable pan.

"Add raisins to it," she clarified.

"Who adds raisins to banana bread?" Tobirama arched a brow as he rummaged through the cabinets, looking for the pan he always used. Did Hashi eat it, or something? There was clanging and shuffling and things falling as he roughly sorted through the items.

"My sister used to. We put craisins in there, too." Mariko shot him an innocent smile as she produced a packet of raisins from out of nowhere.

"What the heck are craisins?" Tobirama muttered, despite taking the packet of raisins and studying them closely.

"Like raisins, but made out of cranberries," Mariko told him. She leaned over the counter to look at the raisin box as well. Her long, sapphire hair slipped over her shoulders, and Tobirama pushed her back to her spot, complaining about her hair being in his way. Blue hair banana bread? Not so attractive.

"Is this a Hurricane thing?" he teased, tossing the packet of raisins back to her. The girl's cheeks flushed red, and she pursed her lips in a pout. Tobirama reached over and ruffled her hair playfully (he knew her pet peeves well), recoiling before her furious kick could reach him.

Mariko glared, but then resumed swinging her legs casually and bumping her heels against the drawers below the counter. To be honest, Tobirama found it slightly annoying, but every time he tried to snap at her, he saw a cute, honest face watching him make his famous banana bread, and so he just closed his mouth and set to baking it.

"Do you have something against raisins?"

Tobirama sighed and turned to Mariko, who was twirling her hair with a finger. She was like child sometimes. Then again, she _was_ much younger than him…something that sometimes worried him when he thought of others' opinions (and let it be known that Tobirama wasn't a man to worry about people's opinions of him…being a Senju, and the First Hokage's brother). It was the age gap that worried him—was 7 years too much? She _was_ 20, but she still acted like a kid.

"No, I have nothing against raisins." He rolled his eyes and patted her knee reassuringly, a smirk pulling at his lips.

"Do you not have craisins in Konoha?" Mariko asked, returning to her annoying leg swing which allowed her heels to thump against the counter. Hashi would've thrown a fit, but Tobirama just sighed again.

"Again, you and your weird Hurricane names," he said. "Can't you just say dried cranberries, like normal people?"

"Normal people call them craisins," Mariko argued, pulling the remaining slices of orange from behind her and tossing some at him.

"Normal people don't throw oranges at people," Tobirama quipped, catching the poor fruit and setting it aside. "I'm going to assume that everyone from Hurricane is as weird as you." He glanced at the timer on the oven. About twenty minutes left.

"Well, you don't know that. I actually know that all Konoha people are bizarre, because I've met them." Mariko shot him a haughty grin, for once able to return the joke against her home country.

"At least we don't all have blue hair."

"We _don't_ all have blue hair!" Mariko threw another slice of orange at him, earning a quiet scoff and an irritated frown. Tobirama knew very well that only Mariko's family had a line of blue hair even more electrically cerulean than the dull blunettes from Kirigakure. Similar to the Uzumaki, he supposed, just a different color. Then again, all the assistants that he had seen when Mito first arrived were redheads, so maybe the entire village of Uzushiogakure was redheaded, and you had to wade through a sea of red to get to the capital…

Mariko was preparing to whip another unfortunate orange slice at the man, but Hashirama burst through the doors to the kitchen, looking rather windblown.

"What's up, Hashi?" Tobirama asked, standing up immediately. Mariko smiled and waved at the First Hokage, and got a small (though stressed) smile in return.

"Where's the bread?" the older Senju asked, running a hand through his hair.

"Uh. In the oven," Tobirama stated emphatically, gesturing to the kitchen; it should've been obvious, seeing as he and Mariko were sitting next to it waiting for the silly _ding_ of the timer, and that the room was filling with a familiar, famous banana bread smell.

"How much longer?" Hashirama demanded. The uncharacteristic severity of his tone wasn't very suitable for the situation.

"15 minutes. Why?" Tobirama asked, confused.

"Mito, uh…she…well," Hashirama mumbled. As casually as possible, he skirted around the question and just added, "Just get it to her as fast as you can, because I'm going to look for Toka."

Tobirama only nodded, still as baffled as before when his brother turned on his heel and rushed out the door.

"Toka doesn't know how to deal with it either!" Mariko yelled after the Hokage, but her shouts of advice were in vain, because Hashirama was already gone.

"What was that about?" Tobirama asked, glancing at the timer for the fourth time.

"Mito's having baby problems."

"Is the baby in trouble?" Alarmed, Tobirama rushed to his feet again. But why would baby troubles need banana bread? Was his banana bread the cure, or...?!

"No. She's just…going through phases."

"Phases?"

"Yes."

"Explain."

"Men don't get it." Mariko smiled. Whether it was cute, sadistic, attractive, or just plain woman-evil, Tobirama couldn't really discern, but he knew that Hashirama was in more trouble than the baby.

"We don't?" Tobirama narrowed his eyes at her.

"Of course not," Mariko giggled. "This is exactly why you don't."

"You see, Mariko, this is why I get annoyed with you. You're not clear about anything, and—"

"And I'm from Hurricane? Got that part down, Tobirama." Mariko grinned and hopped off the counter just as the oven's timer went off. "Banana bread! Though it lacks raisins…"

"Quit it with the raisins, we are _not_ tainting my famous banana bread with your ideas," Tobirama said dryly.

"Tainting?" Mariko poked him in the ribs, and then wrapped her arms around his waist. Her head leaned against his chest, so that she could hear him sigh.

"I can't get the bread if you're holding on to me."

"Okay." Mariko didn't let go. Tobirama frowned and put his hand on her head, tousling the blunette's hair and turning it into a furiously messy bird's nest. The outraged squeal that came from her throat was both priceless and ear-piercing. Well, at least she let go of him.

Tobirama didn't even bother to slip on oven mitts—burning pots and pans were nothing to the greatest Suiton user of all time—and pulled out the banana bread. He turned back to Mariko and slipped an arm around her waist.

"See, _now_ if you wanted to hug me, you—Hey!"

Mariko's hand had sneakily slid past him and had taken a chunk out of the banana bread. She grinned deviously as the banana bread was popped into her mouth.

"This _is_ good!" Mariko exclaimed."I see why Mito wants some…"

"Stop that, you messed it up," Tobirama snapped.

"Needs raisins, though. No, needs _craisins_."

Tobirama glowered and tried to mess up her hair again, but the small blunette slipped away easily and bounced out the door. It was then that he noticed that she had the entire tray of banana bread in her arms, and was sprinting across the Senju complex towards Hashirama's place, where Mito resided.

Shaking his head in frustration, he raced out the door and tore after her.

"Thank you, dear," Mito said, smiling. Her belly had grown to what seemed like an impossibly large size, and was so inconvenient that getting out of bed was an extremely difficult task.

"You don't have to get up," Mariko replied, setting down a plate with a slice of banana bread on it. Mito chuckled and accepted the treat, settling down as Mariko propped her up on a few pillows.

"I've always felt like this bread needs something more," Mito mused out loud. Mariko's face lit up.

"Craisins?" she suggested.

"Yes!" exclaimed Mito, the idea lighting up her features. Her long red hair, draped across the pillows, shimmered. It seemed like every time Mito was happy, even her hair could glow.

The two delved into a surprisingly intense conversation on Konoha and its lack of craisins, and how people only said "dried cranberries" with a mild look of confusion, because not many people ate cranberries, apparently, in Konoha. It was definitely not a Konoha thing, they agreed.

At some point, Tobirama knocked on the door and entered, looking rather peeved and tired of chasing Mariko around.

"Let's go, Mariko. Enjoy the bread, Mito."

"It lacks craisins," Mito told him. If he hadn't been in Mito's room, Tobirama would've punched a wall through just for the comedy of it. His famous banana bread did not need craisins, or raisins, or even the orange peel that he was sure was now stuck to him in the form of citrusy smell.

"You smell like orange," Mariko noted quietly, upon joining him by the door.

"Whose fault would that be?" he muttered back.

Mito, being pregnant and prone to the wild mood swings, abruptly grew irritable and tired of their presence. She glanced at Mariko and told the girl that she was tired, but thanked them for the banana bread.

"Any time, Mito," Mariko replied, beginning to head out the door.

And then, Tobirama, being the man, just had to stick in the room and voice his random revelation.

"Wait, are craisins a Whirlpool thing too?" he asked. Mito glared at him.

"What makes you think that?"

"It's just that you two—"

Mito threw a pillow at him. The fabric smacked Tobirama in the face, and then fell to the floor with a dull flopping sound. He arched a brow, confused.

"Why did you just throw a—" He was interrupted by another pillow in the face, and then Mito threatened him further by raising the plate that had once held a slice of his famous banana bread. "Whoa, Mito, not the plate. I didn't do anything."

"You've done too much, Tobi."

"Wait, wha—"

"We're leaving." Mariko promptly dragged the confused Senju out the door, and led him a safe distance away from Mito's door.

"What did I do?" he demanded, puzzled and a little angry at the pillow in the face. (Really, Tobirama, it was just a pillow).

"Men _really _don't get it," Mariko sighed, mimicking Tobirama's eye roll and waving her hand nonchalantly.

"What do men not get?" Tobirama glared.

"Well, for one, it's probably because you didn't add craisins…"

"Okay, just stop it with the craisins!"

* * *

The end was laziness of my part. Hee hee.

Gah! I'm not a skilled writer, but I'm working on it...

Hope you likeee?

[review?] QUESTIONS COMMENTS BURNING CONCERNS HURRICANE JOKES?


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